#STORIES
20 October, 2025
Inside Rancho Cuatro Patas
We speak to Elizabeth Rogers to uncover the story behind her exclusive Baja retreat.
Categories
Published
16 April, 2026
Edited
30 April, 2026
Twelve months. Twelve places. There’s a right time for everywhere. Not just for the weather—but for when a terrace comes into its own, a city exhales, a house feels less like somewhere to stay and more like somewhere to belong. This is your travel calendar, properly curated. The only thing left is to open the door.
St. Barts | If you’re anywhere else, you planned it wrong.
The island is in full swing. Boats in the harbor, tables spoken for, and the right kind of chaos. The homes are how you do it well: private terraces, long lunches, and just enough distance to dip in and out of the scene on your terms. January belongs here.
January highlight: New Year’s Eve here isn’t an event, it’s a rite of passage.
Aspen | Snow, but make it social.
The days are crisp, the nights run late, and everything feels just a little more alive at altitude. Aspen in February is as much about where you stay as how you ski—homes with fireplaces that matter, rooms made for gathering, and just enough polish to carry you from slope to dinner without missing a beat.
February highlight: Après starts early and rarely ends where you think it will.
Costa Rica | Green, without the guesswork.
Dry season, but everything is still lush enough to feel cinematic. Mornings start slow—doors open, coffee outside, the jungle already awake. The homes are the point here: open-air living, pools that blur into the landscape, and just enough distance to feel completely off-grid (without actually being so).
March highlight: You might spot whales offshore. Or you might not leave the house long enough to notice.
Provence | Spring, before anyone announces it.
The countryside starts to wake. Markets reopen, light softens, and everything feels just slightly ahead of the season. This is Provence without the performance. The houses come into their own: shutters open, long tables set, and a pace that suggests you’ve done this before.
April highlight: You’ll wonder why anyone comes in August.
Punta Mita | Sun, salt, and very good timing.
Cinco de Mayo is your cue to head south. Not to a city, not to somewhere overplanned, somewhere with ocean air, strong drinks, and a reason to stay out past lunch. Punta Mita makes particular sense in May: golden heat, calm water, and the kind of ease that feels far more seductive than springtime anywhere else.
May highlight: Cinco de Mayo, ideally with a margarita and absolutely no agenda.
Amalfi Coast | Summer, just before it shows off.
June is Amalfi at exactly the right moment: boats on the water, lemons in season, terraces in constant use, and the coast not yet pushed into full performance mode. This is why you come now, not later—for the beauty with its balance intact, and for houses perched above the water that make lunch feel like the only fixed point in the day.
June highlight: Lemon season gives the whole coast its signature mood; bright, sharp, and impossible to improve upon.
South of France | When subtlety takes a holiday.
Saint-Tropez, Cannes, the Côte d’Azur in full expression. It’s busy, yes—but that’s part of the point. Beach clubs, late tables, a little spectacle, a lot of linen. The house is your counterbalance: somewhere calm, considered, and entirely yours once you step through the door. July belongs here: not because it’s quiet, but because it’s chic in the most unapologetic way.
July highlight: Bastille Day is reason enough to be in France; the Riviera simply gives it better lighting.
Lake Como | A month built around lunch.
By August, you want a different kind of glamour. Less scene. More glide. Villas, boat days, long lunches, and every last drop of sun in the Italian summer sky. This is the month for settling in and letting the days go pleasantly loose around the edges.
August highlight: Ferragosto marks the height of the Italian summer. Reserve your villa and live la dolce vita.
Park City | Fall, without the performance.
The mountains turn, briefly and brilliantly. Aspen trees glow, the air sharpens, and everything feels quietly spectacular. It’s a different kind of stay—less scene, more space—and plenty of houses with views you don’t tire of.
September highlight: Early fall brings the best of everything—crisp air, uncrowded trails, and reservations you didn’t have to fight for.
Tuscany | When the table takes over.
Harvest is in full swing—grapes in, bottles opened, markets better than usual. This is the month the region leans fully into its strengths: long lunches, cooler evenings, and kitchens that suddenly become the center of everything. Truffle season begins, the light gets softer, and the whole place feels less styled than simply right.
October highlight: White truffle season begins. Plans after lunch become unlikely.
Turks and Caicos | Bring everyone.
Stop trying to coordinate schedules and just pick a place big enough for everyone. Turks and Caicos makes that easy with long, calm beaches, warm water, and houses designed for space: shared mornings, loose plans, and dinners al fresco.
November highlight: A month to celebrate togetherness, barefoot, outside, with the festive season just on the horizon.
London | The season, done properly.
London doesn’t overdo it—it gets it exactly right. Lights strung with restraint, evenings that start outside and end somewhere warmer, and a rhythm built around small rituals done well. This is a city you move through slowly in December, stopping often, staying out just long enough.
December highlight: Other cities decorate. London wrote the playbook.